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Dark Epiphany: Malignant

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Added to the Roswell Slash Archive July 8, 2001

Title: Malignant
Author: Bennie
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing Roswell.
Character Focus: Isabel POV, Isabel, Liz
Spoilers: Well, late S2. CYN, anyway.
Author's Note: Um, kinda depressing. I like the imagery, though. And several people have mentioned that they think it might lose something if I tried to draw it out into a story. So ... would this be a vignette? Cool, lol.

        Two things happened tonight.

        First of all, I realized something. It's me. I'm the cancer here, not the Skins, not some seriously fucked up dupes, not the humans that fascinate and frighten me. It's my fault; they died because they knew me. I'm the jinx that doomed them.

        Grant was an innocent, and he was so solid, and he could have cared for me so much, except something in my DNA, something that made me live, killed him. Alex loved me so much it took my breath away, and he was coming to see me, because I asked him to, and he died. Then I found out that he didn't die because I asked to come to me, he died in service to a cause that was never his to begin with, by my queen's hand. And in my mind, he died all over again.

        Of course, they're just the latest statistics in my killing spree, aren't they? Let's not forget my brother, the fiancé I have no memory of, and my sister-in-law. Or the countless - oh god, how could I ever count the numbers - people who must have died in a senseless war that I had no small role in creating.

        I'm a cancer, a malignancy that grows dark and dangerous amidst the healthy, normal tissue, surviving because the cells around me, that are supposed to be there, don't recognize me for the evil I am. Not an evil of spirit, but of being. I am not evil by design, but by fact of existence.

        Of course, that's not the whole story.

        That's the second thing that happened tonight. I had a very important discussion. I learned some very important things. I learned that I'm only part of the cancer; it grows much larger, much darker. But I learned that I'm not alone in this cancer, in this darkness. There's someone else as lost and powerless as I to stop what is coming, who is just as desperate but just as clueless.

        And frankly, I feel much better. I'm so glad Liz told me all the crap she's been through this past year.

        It gives me something to think about other than my own pain.

        I'm going back to her now. I want to hear more. I can't hurt her, because in her own way, Liz Parker is a cancer too; she just doesn't know it yet. But I know it, and I don't feel so alone when I'm with her. I don't have to worry about what the consequences will be, because she's already got her cancer, I can't give her mine.

        Or maybe I already have. Maybe her cancer is mine. Maybe she's one of my victims, and I just won't realize it until she dies too.

        But when I'm with her, it's like we're tucked away in a corner, away from everyone else, (because she avoids them too sometimes, even if she doesn't know why). Liz doesn't know why she doesn't push me away, but she doesn't question it. She just accepts it. But I won't tell her why it feels so right that the two of us sit here in her room while the others sit in a booth downstairs, laughing and talking. Because I'm afraid she might push me away then too, and I like it, I like being here. It's comfortable. It's comforting.

        It's too late for us.

        But if I'm here, I'm not with them. And if I can keep us - both of us - away from them, maybe none of them die.

        Maybe no one else will catch the cancer that is Isabel.

        The End

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